


It's not a big deal

by Comixgal



Series: The Best Things Come in Small Packages [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 03:08:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13848792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comixgal/pseuds/Comixgal
Summary: How are Clint and Phil doing after their last therapy session? Will anything come of the interrogation Clint has been assigned to? Is everything okay between Sam and Steve?





	It's not a big deal

“Doc, come sit with us!” Skye waved.

Clint looked up, startled. This was the first lunch invite he’d received. He’d taken to having his lunch in the cafeteria in an attempt to get the employees used to his presence. It worked marginally well - people said hi to him but did not want him “psychologizing” them while they ate. He generally sat alone.

“Here.” Jemma Simmons said as she scooted over.

They all stared at his plate piled high with mashed potatoes, chicken fingers, and gravy.

He grinned at them. “If you choose to judge me on what I’m having for lunch, I get to judge you for what you’re having.” He set down the extra plate he’d balanced with strawberry cheesecake.

They laughed.

May shrugged. “That’s not healthy.” She pointed at his plate with her fork.

“So?” Clint dug into the potatoes. “Nobody’s perfect.”

Coulson’s chuckle floated from somewhere behind Clint. “You would know.”

Clint didn’t startle in surprise only because May and Leo Fitz had been watching over his shoulder and not reacted in concern. He looked back with a smile. He saw the moment when Phil remembered the last time they’d seen one another. Coulson was excellent at masking his expression but Clint had been expecting it. He saw the slight tensing in the deliciously broad and competent shoulders.

Skye jostled Clint, “Move over.” She made room for Phil to grab a nearby chair and sit next to her.

“So, Doc, I hear you’re heading out tomorrow.” May said between bites of salad.

“Oh? Hmmm?” Clint said with embarrassing incoherence. “Oh! Right. Director Fury asked that I sit in on the interrogations that are being done at the base in Florida.” He didn't mention that it was strange for a security firm to be so involved in paramilitary operations.

“What are you going to do, make balloon animals and juggle?” Coulson teased.

“If it gets information out of the suspects, I’ll wear a giant red nose and my clown shoes.” Clint fired back easily.

Everyone laughed while Coulson’s eyes watched Clint’s every move over his glass of water. Clint tried to remind himself that this level of scrutiny was neither abnormal nor flirtatious. He smiled at Coulson and his team, trying to maintain the humour of the joke.

“When will you be back?” Skye asked.

He looked over at her with a shrug. “I don’t know. Depends on the interrogations. I might take an extra day or two -- I have some old friends down there who live near the beach. I might stay with them for a few days before coming back North.”

“Well, behave yourself.” Skye winked at him.

Clint grinned. “Can’t promise that! I haven’t had a chance to unwind in a while and Sam really knows how to party.” He paused, “What I can promise is that I’ll be safe and won’t do anything that puts myself or others at risk.”

There was a somewhat stunned silence at these words.

“Wow. Yeah. That’s pretty much exactly… yeah… good.” Skye stuttered.

Coulson laughed, thoroughly enjoying seeing his team put as off balance by Clint as he often felt. He felt his cheeks warm when Barton winked mischievously at him.

Ward frowned at them all. “What interrogation training do you have?” He demanded of the psychologist.

Clint had been careful not to study the sullen man too obviously; men like Ward did not appreciate that sort of scrutiny. He kept his pose non-threatening and his voice light, “Quite a lot, actually.” He smiled softly. “I’ve had training through every branch of the armed forces as well as the JAG corps. Director Fury sent me on another training prior to my official start date here. You can come examine my wall of certificates some day.”

“I’m never setting foot in your office.” Ward said with some heat.

Shrugging, Clint started on his cheesecake. “As you wish.” Fully aware of the fact that Ward had shared more in the brief interaction than he’d meant to, Clint made only brief eye contact with Coulson. He could tell that Phil was desperately trying to convey an apology through telepathy alone.

Clint stood. “I’m getting more of this!” He waved his fork around. “Anyone want anything?”

“I’ll take a piece!” Jemma said. “Three forks, please.” She grinned at Skye and Fitz who had both brightened at the words.

Clint took the opportunity to look more squarely at Phil. “For you?” He was rewarded by a loosening of the man’s shoulders.

“No thank you.”

“Be right back!” He navigated slowly around the other tables to give them all an opportunity to whisper about him behind his back.

******

“It’s been too long, Barton!” Sam said as he slapped the shorter man’s shoulder.

“Busy, busy, my friend.” Clint grinned. “Thanks for being flexible about my visit.”

Sam shrugged. “No problem. You just let me know when you’re done with work and we’ll set up the guest bedroom. Till then, we can enjoy a beer or two.”

Clint raised his bottle in agreement.

“So how’re things going at the new job?” Sam asked.

“Good. Great, actually. Interesting problems, some traveling, rarely any on-call hours. I can’t complain. How about you? Still at the raptor sanctuary?”

“Yep.” Sam smiled, “We’ve started doing more outreach and work with the local Veteran’s group. It’s been good.”

Clint caught a momentary frown. “Speaking of veterans, how’s Steve?”

“He spent the weekend lost in his work. He hasn’t come out of the studio except to eat and sleep.” Sam deflated. “I just don’t know how to reach him when he’s like this. It’s like he’s frozen in memories and the past. We’ve tried all the coping mechanisms they suggest but mostly I just wait until he gets his latest demon captured on canvas.”

Trying hard not to put on his psychologist hat, Clint put a gentle hand on Sam’s arm. “Coma recovery is hard. So is PTSD. This is hard on him. But it’s okay for it to be hard on you too. You don’t have to be strong just for him. You can have moments of vulnerability too.”

Sam took a long swig of his drink. “Thanks, man. I needed to hear that.” He sighed. “I know he loves me.”

Clint smiled at that. “The whole world knows he loves you.”

Sam’s dark cheeks turned darker. “Yeah, well…”

They were referring to a series of paintings and sketches that Steve had titled _My Heart_. Sam featured heavily in them. Steve was not shy about being a gay veteran and Sam was (for good reason) not body-shy. Since owning any of the erotic prints would have been far too strange, Clint had purchased two of the more sedate images. One showed Sam holding a gyrefalcon on an arm. Another depicted the raptor specialist in profile, staring lovingly down at a small abandoned chick. Steve had captured the man’s extraordinary rapport with both creatures and Clint treasured both the signed images.

“Any word on Sergeant Barnes?” Clint asked to change the subject.

“His recovery is going well. He and Steve hang out a lot. There’s some talk of Bucky joining your group when he’s ready.”

“He won’t be the first veteran to join a security firm. I’m sure Fury and Coulson will treat him well.”

Sam nodded and they sat in silence for a while. “Hey, whatever happened to that psychologist you were dating?”

Clint groaned. “Remember that rule I have about dating people who are in psychiatric fields?”

“You mean the one you keep breaking?”

“Yeah, well, this was the last time. It was awful. Every little thing had to be unpacked. I couldn’t ask for anything in bed without a thirty minute discussion about consent and boundaries. I’m all for communication but _everything_ required dialogue and analysis. We’d only been seeing each other for a few months, it wasn’t that serious, and the breakup required a three hour post-mortem!”

Sam laughed throughout this entire recitation. “So no sex outside of work?”

“No sex at work either.” Clint muttered into his bottle. “Helping others with their needs doesn’t mean I’m getting any release myself.” He resisted mentioning that Sam already knew exactly how his sexual therapy sessions worked.

“Well, if you’ve got no one on the horizon, you’ll just have to let me set you up with someone while you’re here.”

Clint shook his head. “And start a long-distance relationship. Hell no." He caught the man’s gaze and held it. "Seriously, Sam.” 

“Alright, alright. Your loss. But I respect your decision. How about you let me set you up with someone for a little no-strings attached sex instead?”

“Nope. Just nope. With my luck it would not stay no-strings. I’ll be fine. They make a lot of really good sex toys these days.”

Sam chuckled, “You would know.”

"Yes," Clint motioned for another drink, "I sure would."


End file.
